


You

by DizzyRedhead



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Aside from the soulmate thing, Kissing, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Pining, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: Eric has always been very careful not to touch Jack...until now.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RembrandtsWife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/gifts), [ticktockclockwork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktockclockwork/gifts).



> Happy late birthday to rembrandtswife and thank you to ticktockclockwork for prompting me! It was going to be really short, but then the ending would've been super angsty, and you know I can't have that.
> 
> The prompt was for soulmates who don't know until they touch, so this is mostly canon-compliant. The only difference is that Bitty prefers not to touch people skin-to-skin, and his teammates respect that, so his fistbump with Jack was with gloves on. 
> 
> Also, because I believe in free will, in my universe, soulmates are just a potential; it takes time and effort to cement the bond.

Eric doesn’t hear Jack come into the kitchen. Not that surprising, considering that he’s sitting at the table with his head in his hands.

“Bittle--” 

“Aaaaaah!!!” Eric jumps probably a foot out of his chair. “Jack! How does someone so tall move so quiet? I swear you just about gave me a heart attack.”

Jack’s cheeks flush and he ducks his head. “Sorry. I thought you heard me.”

Eric waves a hand airily as he tries to catch his breath. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to see if we were still on for checking practice in the morning,” Jack says slowly. 

“Yup,” Eric says, trying for his usual cheeriness. “Ass-crack of dawn, as usual.”

Jack nods. “Okay.” He turns away, then turns back. “Are you--are you okay?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine,” Eric said, picking a the burned spot on the table that Shitty swore had been there before he came to Samwell. “Just peachy.”

“Bittle.” Jack’s tone is the one he uses when Ransom or Holster has done something especially trying.

Eric pushes back from the table. Maybe if he busies his hands with baking something he’ll magically get better at lying. “No, really.”

Jack sits down in the chair Eric just vacated, straddling it and folding his arms over the back, looking up at Eric with those ridiculous eyes. “I’m going to sit here until you tell me what’s wrong,” he says, and oh, hell, that’s his Captain voice. Eric isn’t getting out of this one.

“I’m just a little--oh, it’s silly.” Eric buries his face in the refrigerator in the vain hope that will help cool the heat in his cheeks. “I guess I’m just a little nervous about Winter Screw. I’ve never gone to a dance with, you know, a date.”

The little noise that escapes Jack just makes Eric blush hotter. “I said it was silly,” he says, taking down a pound of butter. “Just jitters. I’ll be fine. Nothing to worry your captainly head about. I just have to figure out how to dance by next weekend.”

“I--I’ve heard that you dance at kegsters,” Jack says after a minute. “Everyone was talking about it.”

Eric is pretty sure that his ears are literally on fire. He doesn’t remember much other than hearing “Partition” start, but Rans and Holster keep threatening to post a video on YouTube. “Not like that!” he exclaims. “You know, real dancing. Waltzes and stuff. Shitty said they actually do that at the beginning.”

“Oh,” Jack says softly.

“Like I said, it’s silly,” Eric says briskly, closing the fridge and turning toward the counter. “I’ll figure it out.”

He has to go back to the fridge to try and figure out what on earth he can use for pie filling. The strawberries went off, Holster ate the last of the apples as a post-workout snack. Maybe a buttermilk pie; there’s no buttermilk, but he has milk and lemon juice--

“I could teach you,” Jack says quietly.

It’s a good thing Eric set the butter on the counter or he would have dropped it, and even after repeated mopping, he doesn’t trust the kitchen floor. “What?”

“I, uh, I had to learn,” Jack says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We went to a lot of charity events. So I could teach you, if that would help.”

“That would be amazing,” Eric breathes. “If you’re sure you’d be willing to do that. I’ll probably step on your toes.”

Jack shakes his head, a little smile on his face. “Wouldn’t be the first time. But yeah, I can do that. Got your back, remember? Come on.”

“Now?” Eric’s voice climbs to an embarrassing squeak.

“No time like the present,” Jack says, his Captain voice firmly in place. “The living room’s still mostly cleared out from the kegster. Should be plenty of room.”

Eric puts the butter back in the fridge and trails after Jack, who’s standing in the center of the living room. 

“So, your partner is probably going to lead,” Jack says, his voice apologetic.

If eyerolls made a sound, Eric’s could probably be heard across the entire damn campus. “I know I’m short, Jack. You don’t have to tiptoe around it.”

“Okay, so your partner is going to mostly steer you with a hand on your back,” Jack says, suiting actions to words and letting his hand rest lightly on the small of Eric’s back. “The hand-holding is mostly for balance.”

And then his hand is wrapping around Eric’s and everything goes hazy. 

_ Oh, no, _ Eric thinks, looking up at this beautiful, straight boy, trying to keep his face neutral as he feel the soulmate potential zing through his body for the first time.  _ Not you. _

* * *

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take,” his dad says, and suddenly all of Jack’s worries, all the what-ifs fall away. The only thing that matters is the fact that he’s leaving, that this might be his last chance, that Eric is his soulmate and he might not be Eric’s but he can’t live with not knowing.

He slips sometimes as he runs across the campus, the soles of his dress shoes slick on the grass, but he doesn’t stop until he’s standing in front of Eric’s...empty room.

His shoulders slump. He’s too late. Eric is gone--

The sniffling behind him, has him spinning in place. Eric is the most beautiful thing Jack thinks he’s ever seen, haloed in the light from the window. Even when he turns, startled, tears streaking his face, he’s perfect. Jack can’t imagine how he ever thought he could walk away.

Eric is talking, his usual wonderful stream of babble, but all Jack can say is “Bitty,” helpless. He needs to talk, to say “I think you could be my soulmate,” or “I want to find out,” or “I can’t imagine waking up in a different place than you.” 

He needs to say something, but all of the words, all of the feelings, tighten his throat. If there’s one thing Jack knows, though, it’s how to take action.

The instant his lips meet Eric’s, all of his doubts fade away. The soulmate potential is stronger than ever, rolling through his body like delicate thunder, lighting up every nerve ending until he feels like he’s glowing from the inside out.

He slides his hand around the back of Eric’s neck, the extra skin contact redoubling the feedback until he’s practically vibrating with it. He doesn’t want to break the kiss, but he needs to see Eric’s face.

When he does, though, it’s overwhelming. Eric’s eyes are softly closed, his lashes resting lightly on his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, and Jack can no more keep from kissing him again than he can stop breathing.

This time, it’s only the persistent vibration of his phone that gets Jack to tear himself reluctantly away. Even when they’re not kissing anymore, he can’t look away from Eric.

“That’s...uh. That’s my phone,” he says, savoring the way Eric’s eyes have gone dark and heavy-lidded. “I should…”

“...oh,” Eric says, licking his lips.

Jack thinks he should probably get some kind of medal for tearing his eyes away from that flash of tongue. There’s so much he wants to say, to talk about, to do with Eric. But the text message on his phone is uncompromising. They have to leave pretty much now to catch the last commuter train to Providence. 

“...I gotta go,” he says, staring at his phone screen like he can change the words on it by sheer force of will.

“Okay,” Eric says softly.

“I gotta go, but I’ll text you, okay?” Jack persists. He needs Eric to know that this isn’t goodbye, that Jack is in this, but he can feel his anxiety rising at the prospect of missing the train. He steps back, still holding Eric’s hands, unable to make himself let go. 

Eric steps into his space, going up on his toes at the same time as Jack moves back in and bends down to kiss him again. It’s not a goodbye kiss. It’s a beginning kiss. A promise.

“I’ll text you,” he says again. What he means is,  _ It’s you. It’s always been you. _

When Eric says, “Okay,” again, it sounds like,  _ It’s you. _

Jack slips into the car that’s waiting in front of the Haus, his phone already in his hands. He doesn’t text much, his fingers clumsy on the tiny keyboard. Not like Eric’s, but he does _ not _ need to be thinking about the way Eric’s fingers dance over his phone screen when he’s in a car with his parents.

Both Maman and Papa stay mercifully quiet, though, while Jack types and erases, types and erases. There’s so much he wants to say, but some of it is best saved for face to face, when he can see Eric’s eyes and his smile and hear his voice.

Finally, he settles on something simple.

_ It’s you :) _

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to come yell at me about dumb hockey boys [on Tumblr](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com). Comments and kudos are much appreciated!!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Choose To](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9588002) by [Aj4668](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aj4668/pseuds/Aj4668)




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